


"A" Game

by faegal04



Series: Penned with an Arrow [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 1, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 3, Episode: s03e02 Sara, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faegal04/pseuds/faegal04
Summary: This is the first in a series of drabbles for the Olicity fandom. Some will be sad, some happy, who knows we may get smut eventually.





	1. "A" Game

**Author's Note:**

> This first one is from Season 3, episode 2 “Sara”. I have a list of quotes that I have written down and this one just spoke out to me that it fit within this episode.
> 
> The quote is "I never stood a chance did I"

“This is taking to long!” Oliver stood tension filling him, his forefinger rubbing a circle against his thumb unconsciously.

 

Felicity sighed, “I’m running every search possible, Oliver.” Her eyes flicked up to his and then away quickly, “And a few that shouldn’t be possible, but because I’m me, we all know that I can do the impossible,” she murmured a “sometimes, with some things.” ‘ _ Stop it! Now is not the time to go all emotional and go there.’ _

 

Oliver stopped his pacing and looked down at her, hurt crossing his features for just a second. He quickly wiped his face back to emotionless. “I just need your “A” game right now Felicity.”

 

Her jaw dropped and she stood pushing her chair away, “I don’t have it! Not on this! My friend is dead, our friend is dead. She was shot with arrows and fell from a rooftop,” she sobbed, tears running down her face she continued. “She’s upstairs right now in a  _ freezer _ , because we don’t know what to do with it- _ frack, _ her! So I’m sorry, Oliver, if my feelings are interfering but maybe if you had any-”

 

She hated herself immediately for saying it, watching him turn away and flinch, hands curled into fists. “God, Oliver. I’m. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. But this is  _ Sara _ we’re talking about.  _ Your Sara.  _ How can you be so cold and so rational?”

 

He turned back to face her, eyes closed when he started to speak, “Because, Felicity. I don’t have the luxury to fall to pieces right now. Everyone is looking to to me to handle this. You all are looking at me to lead so if I grieve, no one else gets to,” he finished softly. “So, just do this,  _ give me something _ !”

 

Anger slowly replaced her grief, “You think, that because we look to you, that it means we expect you to be cold, unfeeling and aloof. Jesus, Oliver, listen to yourself. Stop being-”

 

He crossed the room in seconds to stand before her, chest heaving, “Aloof?!” He hated watching her shrink back from him, before he could stop himself his hand found her shoulder, “Do you know what I thought when I saw her lying there?”

 

He pulled his hand back, reigning his emotions back, concentrated on his breathing before he continued, “I saw me.” He ignored her gasp, “I saw me lying there, because let’s face it, with this life there’s only one ending. I know it, you know it. I’ve accepted it,” he finished bowing his head.

 

“ **_I never stood a chance, did I_ ** ?” she whispered, hating the way her voice broke. Hating that he seemed to turn inwards even more, just out of her reach. Angrily she wiped her tears and strode over to stand before him.

 

“If you want to die alone, don’t expect me to wait here with you, I want more than that. I  _ deserve _ more than that,” she stepped around him to head toward the stairs, stopping at his side and said softly, “ _ You _ deserve more than that.”

  
  
  



	2. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An iconic meeting, taken a different way. Set in Season 1, episode 3.

“Felicity Smoak?”

 

He inhaled sharply as she spun in her to chair to look at him, his eyes drawn to her mouth. Or rather the object between her pink lips.

 

He knows the color well. Red. It holds different memories, some,  _ who is he kidding, _ most of them bad.

 

__________

 

_ He knows exactly when the version to the color started. Surprisingly enough it was roses. Roses that he had given Laurel the first time she had found out he had cheated. It certainly didn't help all the times that had followed either.  _

 

_ Especially when she had caught him in the act. _

_ ________ _

 

Some part of him knows now that he wanted to get caught. He wanted to know then that the bright color that stained Laurel's cheeks was anger, but he knew it was embarrassment.

 

He can't help but duck his head in shame, even though he can feel her staring at him. The red on her cheeks have nothing to do with anger and everything to do with embarrassment, much like the heat he feels staining his own cheeks. 

 

She's cute, he thinks as she babbles away incoherently. He wants to say something but he's struggling with memories overwhelming him, pulling him under.

___

 

_ Water slapping against the rubber raft, the sound of his own labored breathing, how much his body hurt when the gun shot rang out and the first mate fell out of the raft. The sound of the pain in his father's voice, the anger telling him to right his wrongs. His father's blood splattering over the raft when he killed himself. _

 

_ A few days later and it's his own blood being spilled on the island for the first time and each time after. So much blood, not always his. _

_ ________ _

 

Blood. It's a powerful thing. Life and death. It can be beautiful and dangerous.  _ Red. _

 

Anger and violence. So much danger.  _ Red. _

 

Passion, strength and determination.  _ Red. _

 

It's the color of extremes. It's the color of attention and in Russian, he thinks with a jolt the color means beautiful. 

 

It's a color for a new beginning, he thinks. Oliver knows without a doubt that with the woman sitting before him it is both beautiful and dangerous. Her head is tilted and she is nervously tapping the pen on her desk, looking at him curiously.

 

His eyes move from the pen to her eyes and back and he knows deep inside him that everything has changed for the better, because it was red.

 

He clears his throat and smiles, “Hi! I'm Oliver Queen.”


End file.
